Scandal
by ShullBitter
Summary: AnkoGaara Pairing. Neither of them make good socialites. Spoilers for Gaara's post time jump occupation.


The latest story from my Pair Anko With The Whole Damn Cast Project. I'm not sure how well it works... Suggestions more than wanted. Spoilers for Gaara's post-time jump occupation.

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It was the largest social event of the season and Mitarashi Anko had no idea what she was doing there. Well, she knew her technical assignment as a member of the Hokage's Honor Guard (a position purely ceremonial, Anko knew, as in the unlikely event of a dangerous attack, Tsunade-sama protecting her Honor Guard was more likely than the Guard protecting her). But Anko had no clue why she had been selected for this mission.

Among the adult kunoichi, Anko was the one with the least amount of experience at high profile, high society events. Both of her prior experiences occurred under the twisted tutelage of Orochimaru—in other words, disaster and scandal. Either out of pity for her or a desire to protect the reputation of Konoha and its kunoichi, the Third Hokage made a point of carefully keeping her off missions that had such requirements.

The Fifth, Anko suspected, selected her on purpose and out of spite. After all, misery loves company. No one else had tried half as hard as Tsunade-sama had to find a way to politely decline an invite to the huge gala celebrating the sixteenth birthday of the spoiled youngest daughter of a feudal lord who had more money than many villages did.

So there she was in the crowded room, leaning up against the whitewashed wall like a juvenile delinquent skipping school. She stood out brightly against the fresh coat of paint because of the same reason no one approached her to chat or dance—the garish red kimono she was wearing in a season of pastels, the kimono she specifically selected for the sour looks of disapproval it would grant her.

She scanned the room for the Hokage in hopes she could appear as a dangerous fighter dedicated to her assignment, rather than a surly, mal-adjusted troublemaker-in-waiting. But the only kage currently in sight was the rookie Kazekage, attempting to extricate himself from the attentions of the birthday girl. Anko snickered at his plight. As if he somehow knew, he suddenly turned and met her gaze, unblinking.

Anko watched with piqued interest as he stole away from the girl, a bit more brusquely than any who was not a handsome, mysterious young powerhouse could get away with. More interestingly was how he made a beeline straight to the patch of white wall where no one stood too closely to Anko.

"You were one of the Chuunin Examiners," he said in lieu of a greeting.

She smirked like a satisfied cat. "So pleased to be remembered, Kazekage-sama."

"Gaara," he broke in. "You may call me Gaara." He paused, and Anko was certain that he wanted her to provide her name to refresh his memory. After all, it had been a few years, and the boy in front of her had undergone much change in them. He couldn't be expected to remember everyone's name, especially with how many people he should meet in his duties. Giving her name was the polite thing to do.

But Anko was never known for not being difficult. "So, Gaara, what brings you to this lowly corner of the room?"

"Join me in the next dance." It was not a question or a request, but an order delivered with the confidence born of someone who never had to worry about having their orders questioned.

Listening to him like that and remembering him as a child under her authority, she just had to bait him. After searching and surveying him from his unruly hair to his feet, large enough to suspect he might have another growth spurt in his future, she smiled sweetly. "But Gaara-kun, I'm nearly twice your age."

"In calendar days, you are a few years short of that estimate, I am sure. And in terms of waking hours, I am awake and conscious for the eight hours each day that most people waste sleeping. In the time that the rest of the world has been awake for three days, I have experienced four. These days add up, closing in our age gap by another few years." By the time he finished his calm argument, his hand had already found hers and he made to lead her to dance.

A woman like Anko dancing with a man-boy like him would certainly cause a scandal. Shizune had specifically instructed her to avoid scandal. Her decision was made.

"I doubt anyone else will look at our age difference and see your logic, but it's good enough for me." But just because he was Kazekage and just because she was complying with him was no reason to let him have control. Anko made sure that it was she who lead him to the dance floor.

The song that played was inconsequential—light and fluffy and completely without depth. As soon as Anko was certain that Gaara's competence as a dancer was clear (which was indeed there, though he was not as the most experienced, something Anko couldn't judge him on as she wasn't either, and he was no more or less graceful than the average over-trained shinobi), she started glancing around the room, looking for faces both the familiar and the shocked. And she did find some, but with the status held by the Kazekage no one said anything to them.

In terms of what was spoken between the pair as they danced, it was not but the barest required pleasantries. Taking this into account, Anko was surprised at the end of the song when, instead of releasing her hand when she tried to draw it back, Gaara held to it, asking or demanding another dance.

Anko ended her resistance and obliged him. She figured she had no reason not to. The next song started up and with opening chords identifying it as a well-known, traditional slow song.

Suddenly Gaara took Anko by surprise with the strength and speed he used to draw her in close, much closer than polite society generally found acceptable for unmarried persons. Anko, being so near to him, was amused greatly at the similarity in their height. She looked over Gaara's shoulder to smirk at the looks they were getting from the rest of the Hokage's Honor Guard, the Kazekage's Honor Guard (though they disguised their looks better), and the epicenter of hateful looks from the birthday girl and her socialites.

With one arm still lingering on her waist, Gaara brought his other hand up and gently turned Anko's chin, forcing her to look at him instead of past him.

"Hey, what's the—" she started to protest only to be interrupted by him bringing his face to her's in an intense kiss.

Anko only half-heartedly returned the kiss, concentrating more on appraising it. And sadly, there was something missing; it just didn't measure up. It ended quickly, leaving Anko critically examining Gaara's blank expression. Only a very slight crease in his brow revealed to her that he was not satisfied with her obvious verdict.

She backed away from him slightly to look him over. He wasn't a lost cause, not by any standards; he just needed something extra. Drawing back on an experience from her youth, Anko figured she had a pretty good idea of what would do the trick for the stoic Kazekage.

Flashing him a quick and mischievous smile, she sank her teeth deeply into her bottom lip. As soon as she broke skin, she released and waited to feel her blood rise up and coat her lip. The whole time she was watching him, taking in the confusion in his eyes and the something else that quickly rose up with the sight of her blood.

She kissed him, and the kiss was not at all mechanical like the last. Anko felt a pleasant tingle when the salt of his saliva met her cut during his lapping up of her blood. And with such an appetizer, the ravenous Kazekage pushed the kiss deeper, allowing Anko a secondhand taste of her own blood.

The kiss was such to make their first seem chaste. For a moment, Anko even forgot that it was a teenage boy she was holding in an intense lip lock. But as they parted, she remembered and realized that there was no way anyone else at the party would have also forgotten during the little exhibition that they had put on. She couldn't help but grin, drawing attention nicely to her rapidly swelling bottom lip, when she saw all of the shocked, horrified, and scandalized looks.

Suddenly Gaara's mouth was next to her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "This place is far too civilized for wild creatures. Shall we leave?"

Ha. It was a question, not a command. Point for Anko.

She took a moment to consider his request. She knew there was no way that she would become more physical with him, but she also knew that everyone else present would 'know' that she had if she left with the young Kazakage. Her grin grew wider. Pretending not to know social rules in order to stomp on them had always been a hobby of hers. Let this teach them not to drag her to such functions in the future. "Certainly."

With her consent granted, Gaara did not even wait for the end of the song to swiftly lead her off the dance floor and over to where some of his ninja were guarding his gourd. As soon as he retrieved it, the two of them left the dance, whispered gossip echoing each footstep.

On their way in the general direction of the sets of estate cottages that the lord was lodging his guests in for the night, they stopped at a garden fountain.

"Any reason why me?" Anko asked out of sheer curiosity, her voice disturbing their comfortable silence.

"You remind me of someone," Gaara replied. "But you're different too, in good ways."

She didn't get the chance to press him on that as she had to deal with his hand, which had found its way to the neckline of her kimono. Luckily, she read him correctly. As soon as her boundaries were drawn, he didn't push them. Instead, they walked on.

Before Anko knew it, Gaara had escorted her back to the cottage that she was to share with a few other Konoha nins. "Goodnight, Gaara. It's been—WHAT THE FUCK!" In the middle of her polite farewell, sand had rushed from Gaara's gourd to drown her ankles.

The teenage boy just smirked as the sand retreated, bringing back one of Anko's shoes with it. In a plain voice tone, one usually used to discuss such exciting things as the weather, he stated, "You never reminded me of your name. Once, when I was little, someone told me a story of a prince who met a princess at a dance. He was unable to catch her name before they parted, but he did get a shoe." Gaara examined her. "You're no princess, and I'm no prince, but now I have your shoe."

Anko laughed at him and finished saying goodnight.

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Inspired by Shikome Kido Mi and beta-ed by Kia. 


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